


Like Sunshine After Rain

by Daegaer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1920s, Anthropomorphic Personifications, Friendship, Humor, International Relations, Lithuania's Outsourcing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-07
Updated: 2010-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:32:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working for America, Lithuania is visited by an old friend he wishes would stay home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Sunshine After Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [](http://puddingcat.livejournal.com/profile)[**puddingcat**](http://puddingcat.livejournal.com/) for beta reading! The title comes from a line in one of Shakespeare's poems, _Venus and Adonis_: Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.

  
Lithuania backed into the bathroom, a basket of cleaning materials in one hand and an armful of clean towels clasped against his chest. His quiet, tuneless humming stopped as he caught sight of the bath. He sighed, set down the basket, and put the towels on the rail. Then he went back downstairs to the kitchen and hunted out some large jars and bottles, taking as many as he could carry up to the bathroom. He filled them from the bath, his eyes streaming as the fumes rose up.

"Hey, Lithuania! What do you think?"

Lithuania looked over his shoulder at America, who was rocking back and forth on his heels and toes, looking very pleased with himself. It was hard to stay irritated.

"I thought 'bathtub gin' was just a funny name," Lithuania said.

"Have you tried it yet?" America said eagerly, grabbing up a bottle.

"Er, no. America, sir, are you sure that's safe?"

America took a large swig and gasped for breath. "It's – very –" he wheezed, " – fresh." He waggled the bottle at Lithuania in challenge. Lithuania clambered to his feet, feeling tipsy already from the fumes, and took the bottle, swallowing down a good mouthful.

_Fresh_, he thought, concentrating on keeping a mild smile on his face. "Not bad," he said, and had to laugh at America's expression. "You should see the poison Russia thinks is all right to give to his staff."

"You are made of stern stuff, my friend," America said in admiration, and reclaimed the bottle for another drink before passing it back.

Lithuania took a shallower draught this time. The world might have gone quite mad, or it might be perfectly normal in America's house to get drunk in the bathroom with one's employer, but _someone_ would eventually have to clean out the bath, and it would be best to be sober for that. He froze as America put the very tips of his fingers on his cheek, stroking over the cheekbone.

"I really like you," America said.

The moment stretched out, long past where Lithuania could have said something light-hearted about the gin leading them astray. He kept his eyes on America's, and leant into the light caress. _He's going to kiss me_, he thought. _He's going to –_

_Ding-dong!_

America jumped slightly, and kept his hand where it was.

"There's someone at the door," Lithuania said.

"Let them wait," America said, looking annoyed at the interruption.

_Ding! Dong!_

" – I'd better see who it is," Lithuania said, and took a half-step back. America didn't step forward. Lithuania waited a moment longer, then smiled and headed for the stairs. It had just been the terrible gin and all the fumes, he told himself. Really, they both had cause to be grateful to whoever was now _Rat-a-tat-tatting_ on the door for saving them both from embarrassment. He smoothed his hands over his hair, not wanting to disgrace America by appearing dishevelled, and opened the door.

"Hello?" he said. "Can I help –" His voice died away.

"So this is, like, America's house?" Poland said, skipping past him. "It's _ginormous!_ How come you haven't invited me round earlier? What's he got you doing? Do you, like, have to wear a French maid's outfit? I bet you totally do! What's the food like?"

"Poland!" Lithuania said. "Shh! Keep your voice down, I'm meant to be working!" He made a grab for Poland's arm. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting," Poland said, as America came down the stairs.

"Hey, Lithuania? Who was it?"

"So you're, like, America?" Poland said. "I hope you're treating Liet well."

"Pardon me?" America said.

"Poland, speak English," Lithuania whispered.

"Why? Doesn't he speak Polish?" Poland said, the expression on his face one of honest bewilderment. "There are loads of my people here."

"_English_, Poland."

"What about Lithuanian? There are loads of _your _people, and _you_."

"What are you talking about?" America said, looking between them.

"Ah, this is Poland," Lithuania said. "He came to visit."

"Oh," America said cheerfully. "Your former partner. Hi!" He held out a hand.

Lithuania watched Poland mentally translate and process that before shaking America's hand carefully.

"Hello," Poland said. "I am, like, paying a visit to see the progress of my people who have come to your house. I hope you will treat them with consideration and amity. I was also totally eager to see Liet."

America flashed one of his more blinding smiles. "It's just so cute, the way you European guys speak English! Don't worry, you'll get better now you're here – Lithuania improved really quickly. Say, would you like something to eat? And he can try the latest vintage too, right, Lithuania?"

"Ehehe," Lithuania laughed weakly as America rushed back upstairs to get a bottle of the gin. He looked sidelong at Poland who was blushing scarlet and looking like he was trying to hide behind his hair. "He's friendly."

"What's wrong with my English?" Poland said plaintively. "I totally read a grammar book on my way here."

"It's more casual when you actually _speak_ it," Lithuania said, feeling bad for him.

"And what does he mean, _former_ partner?" Poland sniffed as America came back down, a not-quite carefree smile on his face and a bottle in either hand.

Lithuania looked at both their expressions, and decided he'd feel bad for himself instead.

 

* * *

  
"America? Sir?"

Lithuania laid a cloth gently across the pastries on the tray and went looking for his employer. America had been hidden away in his storage room for an hour now, and would probably appreciate a chance to have a coffee. He knocked on the door and peered in to the dim interior.

"Sir? The coffee's ready –"

America looked round, an expression of relief on his face. "Oh, hey. I didn't mean to keep you waiting, Lithuania." He came out at a fast walk, pausing only to grab up a small figurine from on top of a box, sticking it in his pocket. In the garden, he smiled up at the sun, stretching. "Coffee, huh? Sounds good. And what did I say about calling me 'sir'?"

"It's hard to get out of the habit," Lithuania said, leading him back to the table in the sunniest part of the garden. He poured the coffee, handing the cup over with a smile. America's fingers seemed to linger on his for a moment, but he told himself not to be silly.

"That room's full of stuff I don't need, but it's hard to get rid of," America said. "Lots of stuff from when I was a kid."

"You're all grown up now," Lithuania said, looking at the way the sun lit up his hair and made his eyes bluer than ever, and winced internally. _My_ God_, Lietuva_, he thought. _You really sound like you're fishing_.

America chuckled into his coffee and looked at him over the rim of the cup in a way that made Lithuania think maybe he was willing to take the bait. Feeling his heart speed up in nervous anticipation, Lithuania took out his handkerchief, leaning towards America.

"You've got a cobweb in your hair – " he said, wiping America's cowlick clear of the grime.

"What would I do without you?" America murmured, and captured his wrist in his hand. "What about my face? Is it clean?"

"Yes," Lithuania said. "More or less –"

"Good," America smiled, and pulled him gently forwards as he leant in. Lithuania let himself be tugged closer, a bubble of happiness starting up in his chest.

"How come you didn't get some Polish cakes, Liet? I could, like, really murder some sękacz!"

Lithuania felt his eyes widen in horror. He looked round at Poland who was standing there looking innocent, poking at the pastries with vague interest. _It's Poland_, his mind informed him, shortly before it went into red alert. He was practically sitting in America's _lap_. He scrambled upright and sneaked a look at America, who rallied out of his surprise with a bright smile that covered what Lithuania couldn't quite believe had been a scowl.

"Hey, there. Poland, isn't it?"

"Yes," Poland said, his own smile the bright, sunny one that had betokened trouble for more centuries than Lithuania cared to count. "I was visiting my people again. I thought, I totally want to see my good friends Liet and America. And here I am!"

"Here you are!" Lithuania agreed in cheerful desperation. "Don't feel you have to force yourself to be sociable," he said quickly in Polish, "I'll explain you're shy around new people –"

"America is very welcoming! He is a friend to all nations! There is, like, no need to be shy," Poland said in English he had quite clearly been practicing.

"I wouldn't say I'm a friend to _all_ nations," America's grin had an edge to it, Lithuania saw. "Some of them can really get on my nerves." Lithuania winced; Poland snapped when poked at. He risked a peep at Poland and was heartened to see an open, more harmless smile.

"You are taking very good care of my people," Poland said, adding with what seemed like total sincerity, "Thank you."

America blinked, then his face went innocently happy again. "Hey, thanks! No problem, I'm always happy to have people come to my house. It's a pleasure!"

"Your gardens are also lovely," Poland said looking round.

"Yeah, they're quite a sight," America agreed cheerfully.

Poland casually picked up the coffee pot and refilled Lithuania's cup before picking it up. "Do not mind me," he said, and sipped with enjoyment. "Liet and me, we have known each other for too long to be formal. We had been together for, like, how long by, oh, let me think - 1776, Liet?"

Lithuania felt America's glance flick between them. He glared at Poland, who was still cheerfully innocent-seeming. "Four centuries," he said at last, as the silence dragged on.

"Four hundred years," Poland repeated and giggled. "We must seem, like, so _old_ to you, America!"

America shrugged. "It's fine by me - I, like, _totally_ like older men."

Poland's smile vanished. "He's making fun of my accent, Liet," he snapped in Polish.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to," Lithuania said quickly. "Have some more coffee –"

"Then he's, like, making fun of _your_ accent," Poland sniffed and shifted back to English. "I must go back to see how my people are doing. Thank you for the coffee." He gave Lithuania a little wave and walked off.

America poured the last of the coffee into their cups and they drank in silence, the garden quiet and peaceful once more. A bee flew across Lithuania's line of vision, landing on the plate of cakes. He shooed it away and sat back to find America watching him.

"England always says I miss the obvious," America said. "Am I missing something, Lithuania? Are you – um. Are you married?"

"No!" Lithuania said so loudly that America started slightly. "I didn't mean to shout," he said in embarrassment.

"Just wondering," America said, obviously restraining himself from looking in the direction Poland had gone. He unfolded himself from the bench and picked up the coffee pot. "Speaking of England, he threatened to visit sometime today. He'll probably want to find something out of place so he can complain - I'll give you a hand tidying up."

"Thank you," Lithuania said, and trailed after him back to the house. _Blast you, Poland_, he thought wearily.

 

* * *

  
Lithuania flipped the pancake, whistling a song that had always annoyed Russia a very great deal. He slid it onto the stack of pancakes keeping warm into the oven and poured the last of the batter into the pan. _Right_, he thought, surveying the high stack of pancakes, the plate of crispy bacon and the pot of coffee. _Enough for any nation, even a really _hungry_ growing one_. He loaded it all on a breakfast tray, making sure he had enough syrup, butter, cream and sugar, then headed upstairs. He balanced the tray carefully and knocked.

"America? Sir? I have your breakfast –"

"Breakfast? C'mon in!"

America was sitting up in bed eagerly, making Lithuania smile. It was good to cook for someone who appreciated it. Russia had either eaten without seeming to taste what he ate, or would fill up on vodka and pronounce himself not hungry.

"You spoil me, bringing it all the way up here," America said. "I could just come down."

"I don't mind," Lithuania said truthfully, unfolding the sides of the tray to form a little table, and settling it securely over America's knees. "Have you got everything you need?"

"It looks like it!" America said, picking up a really crispy bit of bacon in his fingers like a child and crunching it up. "Mmm, very good! There's just one little thing –"

"Yes?" Lithuania said. America was looking in bemusement down at the tray; he bent over to see what it was, and America looked up slyly and kissed him.

"Gotcha," he said in deep satisfaction, and buried his hand in Lithuania's hair to hold him there as he kissed him again. _Oh!_ Lithuania thought, and slid a hand round to cup the back of America's head as he kissed back, leaning into him and letting him bear his weight. He drew back only when the danger of spilling the tray all over the bed became too great.

"Maybe I should move this," he said, looking at how flushed America's face was, and how his glasses had been knocked askew, and how he didn't mind that at all. His own cheeks felt hot and he wondered if his smile was as foolish as he feared.

"Good idea," America said, "we can have it later."

Lithuania put the tray on the floor and wondered how off-putting it would be if he actually threw himself back into America's arms. It perhaps gave the wrong message for employer-employee relations. He settled for sitting on the bedside and kissing him again, laughing as America nuzzled against his throat while trying to untie his apron, and ended up getting his fingers tangled in the straps. America's breath was hot against his skin as his lips moved over Lithuania's throat and jaw, making his heart race faster.

"I'm so happy here," Lithuania said breathlessly, and America looked up at him, his eager grin softened at the edges.

"I'm glad," he said. "I want you to be happy – have you tied this thing on with some super-secret Slavic knot?"

"I'm not a Slav," Lithuania grinned, and pulled the apron off, freeing America's hand. "If I wanted a super-secret Slavic knot I'd have to ask –"  
__

_Rat-a-tat-tat_.  
__

_Ding-dong. Ding. Dong._  
__

_Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock_.

" – you'd have to ask your friend Poland?" America said dryly. "Does he have super-powers of appearing at precisely the wrong moment?"

"Looking back over the course of history: yes," Lithuania said. _Go away_, he thought. _Please, Poland. Just for a while._ The knocking continued.

"We can just ignore him; he'll think we're not in," America murmured, punctuating his words with little kisses to Lithuania's temple and cheek.

"We had an argument once in the fifteenth century," Lithuania sighed. "I went back to my own house; he knocked on my door for twenty years, just to have the last word. He's very – determined."

"That's a very positive way of putting it," America said, and let go. Lithuania felt cold where his hands had been. "Let me get dressed and I'll go down to talk to him."

"I'll go," Lithuania said, fearing an early morning diplomatic incident. "I know how to deal with him."

"Hmm," America said, clearly unconvinced.

Lithuania rushed out of the room and down the stairs, wondering if Poland had yet woken up America's neighbours. He flung the door open and glared at the unrepentant pout Poland wore.

"Jeez, what kept you?" Poland grumbled, sauntering in. "When's your day off? I want to go shopping with you, maybe we can go to the cinema and see one of those new talking pictures, and then –"

"Poland. It is half past seven in the morning," Lithuania said.

"Dude, it's more like a quarter to eight, I've been standing on the doorstep for ages," Poland said, nodding towards the clock on the hall table.

Lithuania briefly wondered if it was too early to attempt murder. "What do you want?"

"To see you! What, I can't call in on my oldest friend when I'm in the neighbourhood?"

"I'm _working_."

"Yeah," Poland drawled, looking him up and down. "I can totally see you've been . . . working. Did he tell you that was, like, part of the job before you got here, or was it a surprise?"

"_Poland!_" Lithuania took a deep breath. Losing his temper would do no good. "Poland," he said in a more reasonable tone, "please, this jealousy –"

"Who's jealous?" Poland said, hurt. "Not me, I'm, like, not jealous at all." Lithuania felt a shriek of frustration begin to bubble up. Poland grabbed his arms, and didn't pout, or laugh at the ulcer he had given somebody, or look like he was searching out precisely the most annoying thing to say. "I'm _worried_, Liet," he said. "I'm worried about you. You're, like, such an innocent, you don't know when people try to take advantage of you."

"That's rich, coming from someone who claimed he was allergic to housework for four hundred years," Lithuania said.

"See? You're _totally_ a pushover! These bigger nations, Liet, you've got to be careful around them – you've just got out of Russia's clutches, you, like, don't want someone else to grab you."

"He's not like Russia," Lithuania said, "I'm treated really well here, I'm not bullied into doing anything I don't want -"

Poland put one finger gently under his jaw. "You have a hickey. What about the bits of you that are covered up?"

Lithuania rolled his eyes and then frowned. Poland _never_ looked serious. "You really _are_ worried," he said slowly.

"I got out of bed early, did all my chores for the day - and they made me sneeze, I totally _am_ allergic to housework - and over here in time to knock on the door by seven thirty in the morning America's time; I'm totally worried."

He looked tired, Lithuania thought. It couldn't be easy, doing his best as a newly independent nation and coming over here to keep an eye on an old friend as well.

"Don't worry," he said, "it's all right. I _like_ him. He likes me. Nothing's wrong." He put his arms round Poland and gave him a reassuring hug. "I'm fine, really."

"It's just –" Poland said, huddling against him. " – We couldn't look out for each other for so long. I didn't know what was happening to you all those years, like, if Russia was starving you or whatever. I want to be able to look out for you now, and keep you safe."

"Ah," Lithuania said, and held on tighter. "Thank you." Poland could be too bossy in running people's lives for them, and had recently tended to think keeping him safe meant grabbing hold even when Lithuania wanted to sit in his own house for a while, but he was not a liar, and their friendship was older and deeper than any recent arguments. He _was_ concerned, and Lithuania felt touched. He looked around America's comfortable hallway, the furniture and décor in perfect condition, the house nicely warmed, and thought of the abundant hot water in the tank, the kitchen stocked with plenty of food. His own house was threadbare and in need of vast amounts of repair, and the last time he had been in Poland's house he had pretended not to see the peeling wallpaper and lied that he was warm enough and not hungry, to stop Poland using up all his dwindling supply of coal and food. If Poland was jealous, he thought, it perhaps wasn't the sort of jealousy he'd at first thought. "I'll be all right," he said. "My people are doing well here. So are yours." Poland shivered, taking a deep breath and burying his face deeper against him. Lithuania held him till he was sure Poland could control himself and then set him back a little. "We'll all be fine," he said quietly. "I know it's sad not to be able to look after all your people."

"Yeah," Poland said, his voice light over real pain. "It totally is. Promise you're all right?"

"Yes," Lithuania said, and looked up as America came halfway down the stairs so noisily he had to be trying to warn them of his presence.

"Sheesh," Poland said. "Some people must have been born in a barn –" He quickly wiped at his face, and shifted to English. "If anyone upsets you, they'd better watch out unless they want to wake up and find Warsaw's become their capital," he said in a loud, carrying voice. "Gotta go, Liet, I can't hang round here half the day." He hugged Lithuania again, gave America a desultory wave of the hand and was gone, shutting the door behind him.

"Everything OK?" America said, coming the rest of the way down.

"Yes," Lithuania said. "It really is."

America slung an arm round his shoulder and looked pensively at the door. "Did he just threaten to declare war on me to get you back?"

"No," Lithuania said. "That would be crazy."

"Hmm," America said, and grinned. "I ate all the breakfast, sorry. I had to do something to stop me creeping out to eavesdrop. I'm sorry if I interrupted anything. Did I?"

He sounded so studiously off-hand that Lithuania had to bite back a snort of laughter, thinking of Poland using exactly the same tone when he was angling for something he wanted and thought he was being subtle about it. "No," he said. "You don't have to worry."

America cleared his throat. "I suppose the moment's passed? Again."

Lithuania looked up at him. "It doesn't have to have passed, does it?" He shifted closer and kissed America lightly, feeling him smile under the touch of his lips.

"You're not as shy as I thought," America said cheerfully.

"Poland was always the shy one," Lithuania said.

"Jesus," America said, starting to laugh. "Then you've really been hiding your real personality. I'd like to find out the real Lithuania – if you'd like that." He took Lithuania's hand and tugged him towards the stairs. "Come upstairs with me? Unless you think we're going to have another visit?"

"We're not," Lithuania said, and squeezed his hand.

America grinned and pulled him up the stairs. Lithuania felt his heart get lighter with every step.


End file.
